


Courtship Traditions

by SerahSerah



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adoribull - Freeform, Awkward Romance, Courtship, Hijinks, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-18 04:26:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4692032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerahSerah/pseuds/SerahSerah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuation of Captaincorale's lovely prompt:<br/>Adoribull Prompt Sunday - Krem tells Bull about some of the OTT gestures that Tevinters do during the courting process. Bull thinks he'll do some of them to see Dorian's reaction. It's up to you which stage they're at in their relationship at this point.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Target Acquired

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is it. So far I only have my original answer to the prompt, but I resolved to do something fun with this. We'll see where this goes. Thanks to everyone who was so encouraging about this little piece.

“So, Chief, you want the ‘Vint?”

Krem is sitting next to Bull in the usual corner of the tavern and Dorian is leaning against the bar, arguing with Cabot. Bull is watching him, in a very unsubtle way, and is so distracted that all Krem gets for his needling is a vague grunt.

“You know he’s an Altus, right? Don’t think you’ll get very far with your usual strategy of growling crude shit at him until he snaps.”

Bull turns to frown at Krem. “Hey now! That’s a time honored tactic! Hasn’t let me down yet. And anyway, very few people ever want to fuck the Qunari for his refined manners and taste.”

Krem laughs. “If anyone would, it’d be the Alti. Trust me on this, they love the refined shit. You should see some of the maneuvering they do before they fuck. It’s quite the sight to see.”

Bull blinks. “Huh. How do you know about that?”

Krem just grins at him. “Oh, everyone knows. Trust me, if you live anywhere near a bigger city in Tevinter, you know exactly who wants into who’s pants, and how. In detail. It’s basically public entertainment.”

“That’s weird,” Bull says. “Dorian doesn’t strike me as the ‘court someone in public’ kind of guy.”

The smile falls from Krem’s face quicker than Bull could blink. “Well, no,” he says, “courting’s not something you can do for someone of the same gender, of course.” Bull’s smile falls too. “Ah.” He says, and then grows thoughtful.

“Hm,” he says at last, “say someone wanted to court him, and do it right. How would this hypothetical someone go about that?”

The smile slowly returns to Krem’s face until he is beaming. “Oh! Oh this is going to be great. Alright, listen up. And don’t ever actually do this in Tevinter.”

Krem shuffles forward on his seat and turns to face Bull, blocking his view on Dorian and getting his full attention. Then he holds up his hand and counts off the points.

“First of all. Him being of higher status than you means that he is supposed to court you. What you will be doing won’t be so much courting as just dropping heavy hints. If he retaliates, you’re golden.”

Bull raised an eyebrow at the word “retaliate”, but did not interrupt.

“Second. Marriages are political, but so are one night stands, in some cases. You want to demonstrate that you can be a political asset.”

Bull shakes his head in confusion. “That’s… weird. How do I do that?”

Krem’s grin spreads even further. Oh, but he is enjoying himself. “Easy. You need to debate him in a public forum. And you need to lose by agreement.”

Bull just stares. “Okay…” he says, “then what happens?”

Krem raises another finger. “Third. The Alti’s status derives from the magisterial seat of their parents. But that’s not all that status is about. As the lower ranking one, demonstrate that you bring something to the affair that his birthright doesn’t. You are not a mage, so you’ll need to improvise. A feat of strength might do. He’d certainly still get it.”

Bull taps his fingers against his mug in thought. “So, that basically just means ‘do something really fucking difficult for him?’”

Krem nods. “See? You’re getting it. Only it’s ‘do something really fucking difficult and spectacularly public for him’. Do impressive stuff and talk about it, as they say.”

“Right, yeah. Public, got it. I’ll find something. And then?”

“Then you want to demonstrate your interest in him, and him exclusively. This is the fun part. You have options, but I think the dinner party program will be easiest around here…” Krem thinks for a second, “Ah yes, perfect. And perfectly simple. You just need to give a dinner party, invite him as your guest of honor, and put him before your other guests who outrank him.”

Bull just looks confused and Krem takes a drink before he goes on. “Well, here he’s only really outranked in any way by the boss, and Adaar won’t mind. Or have anyone killed, that’s always a plus… But anyway, you can stick to the simple, subtle stuff. Invite him first. Give him the better seat. Have his wine served first. That kind of thing.”

Bull nods along with a slow smile. This could actually be fun, in a weird, posh and outmoded kind of way. He would certainly like to know what Dorian would do. Especially in the context of what the Bull wanted this party to be. He’d show Dorian dinner party, all right.

“So, then what happens?” he asks.

“Well, at this point he should have gotten the hint. If he hasn’t, rinse and repeat. If he has, and he is interested, brace yourself. And that’s all there is to it, really.”

Bull went over the points in his mind again, and then came up short. “Wait. What do you mean ‘brace yourself’?”

Krem just gives his best shit eating grin and winks. “I am not telling you how he’ll court you back Chief! Sorry, that’d just ruin the surprise.” Then he drains his ale quickly and gets up, before Bull can retaliate. This was going to be amazing.


	2. Intercultural exchange: An attempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bull tries to do a thing. It does not go as planned. Dorian really just wants to know what is going on.

Dorian, it was safe to say, was now officially annoyed. It was not his fault that the few scattered Templar recruits had never been trained to fight Mages with any real battle experience before. It was also not his fault that southern Mages generally could not fight their way out of a wet paper bag. Furthermore, it was even less his fault that both the Templars and the Mages who had joined the Inquisition as allies apparently were not, to put it tactfully, the brightest candles in the circle tower.

The entire inner circle was standing around the war table and debating their training strategy and progress, and had been debating this since well past lunchtime and Dorian was hungry. And just as the icing on the cake, the Iron Bull had apparently chosen today of all days to keep staring at him. 

Dorian did not have a problem with him, not anymore. Admittedly they had gotten off to a rather rocky start, made even rockier by what Bull apparently thought counted as flirting a few weeks ago. But Dorian had rejected his crude and formless advances and Bull had actually backed off with a surprising amount of respect. It had confused Dorian to no end. Also he was now more than a little confused by the occasional inappropriate and rather hot-blooded image that appeared in his mind when he thought of the Bull, but well. In any case, now he was being stared at and it was getting on his last nerve. Especially because Bull did not look his usual mixture of crude humor and mischief. He was looking rather thoughtful.

“Then we simply need to find a way to allow for live fire training,” Cullen was saying. “There is just no way to simulate the effect certain spells have on armor, shields and terrain. Untrained recruits will inevitably panic the first time they lose their sight. There is no way to simulate this without real spells.”

Solas nodded. “And that is not to mention the shock of having their magic dampened by those they have been taught to fear above all else, their entire lives. The Mages will need to learn to fight through that.”

Cassandra was frowning at both of them. “And neither the Mages nor the Templars are trained well enough to start sparring at that level. We cannot in good conscience risk their health and sanity just because we cannot find a good enough alternative.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Leliana chimed in, “Have them strike at training dummies until we run out of straw?”

“Or Corypheus comes knocking,” Blackwall muttered under his breath.

Dorian gave an exasperated huff and threw his hands up. “That suggestion is completely pointless! Many of them just do not have the necessary abilities, and we will not change that by making them injure one another. Which would also do wonders for their interpersonal relations, I am sure.” 

“I disagree.”

Everyone turned to stare at Bull in surprise. He had said nothing for the entire debate, but now he had uncrossed his arms and was still looking straight at Dorian, something like a challenge in his stance. Dorian blinked at him and everyone just waited. Bull took a look around and then focused back on Dorian.

“They can be taught,” he continued, “and if they see that the other side is not invincible, it could do wonders for moral. And interpersonal relations.”

Dorian crossed his arms and frowned. “And how do you propose we go about something like that?”

“By example of course. We have Mages here who aren’t afraid of Templars, Ma’am, Solas,” he nodded to each of them and they both nodded back at him. “And Cullen and Cassandra can demonstrate what Templars do best, can’t you?” Cassandra nodded slowly and Cullen shrugged. “Sure, I suppose,” he said carefully. 

Bull smiled and turned back to Dorian. “See? I say you pair off for them, show them the ropes. Good for moral, good for training, and good for you too, seeing as we’ll be fighting the same bunch of bad guys.”

“Hm…” Dorian considered it. It might work. He didn’t have much experience fighting southern Templars himself, but gaining some in a safe environment sounded like a good idea. “I suppose I could agree to that. But they will need to learn to fight more mundane opponents too. You have experience fighting Mages, do you not, Bull? Care to throw your axe into the ring, as they say?”

Bull blinked at him. “Yeah… sure,” he said. He was actually looking confused. Dorian could not put his finger on it, but something strange had just happened. He had the feeling it had little to do with the topic at hand.

 

But still, the plan was agreed upon and soon the volunteers were gathered in the courtyard. The actual recruits were still reticent to join, but at least the inner circle was having fun.

Dorian had gone two rounds with Cullen now and was not ashamed, much, to admit that he was feeling rather winded. Templar abilities were fascinating to him, and learning to work around them was definitely a work in progress. He was just considering asking Cullen for a rematch when Bull stepped up to the ring and rolled his shoulders.

“Mind giving me a shot, big guy?” he asked, a glint of challenge in his eye. 

Dorian smiled at him indulgently. “If you insist. Do let me know if it gets too much for you.” 

He spun his staff and went into stance and Bull stepped into the ring. But then he held up his hand. 

“There’s really just one thing I want to try,” he said, “those runes you do, the ones on the ground. The ones that blow you up when you step on them.”

Dorian smiled and drew one between them. “Of course,” he said. “Don’t tread on that without the barrier.”

Bull grinned at him and tossed his horns. “What, just one?” He asked, loud enough for all around to hear. “Let’s have a couple more. Pretend you really want to stop me.”

Dorian raised an eyebrow, but complied. He made two more, one in front of the other. He had no idea what Bull was getting at, but he seemed to have a plan. He studied the glyphs with a disinterested eye and then turned to the sidelines.

“Anyone got a barrier for me?”

Solas waved his hand and a blue glow settled over Bull’s skin. He rolled his shoulders again, gave Dorian a satisfied smirk and stepped onto the first glyph.

Dorian’s magic, even the watered down versions of spells he used for training, where nothing to be sneezed at. His glyphs sent men in full plate armor sprawling on their asses, and they even made giants trip and stumble.

Bull’s foot connected with a red line and it exploded with a crash, showering sparks and dirt in all directions, but Bull remained standing. Dorian raised both eyebrows this time. Before he could think of anything witty to say, Bull took another step forward, right onto the second one. Just like the first, it burst with enough force to make a small crater, but Bull did not budge. Solas muttered something under his breath and renewed the barrier. Dorian took a step back, just as Bull took another forward. The third glyph crackled like the first one had, and then Bull was standing right before him, still shimmering blue with the barrier and grinning down at him like a cat who had gotten into an army supply line’s worth of cream.

“I think that demonstrates that,” he smirked, and Dorian decided to do something about it. Gathering all his concentration he focused on giving one great kinetic shove. It was a forceful spell, if badly aimed, and it caught Bull square in the chest and at unawares. He staggered back several paces, but kept his feet. Also, he was still grinning. Bull was probably the heaviest person Dorian had ever tried it on, but it was a spell designed to move heavy rubble. It should have sent Bull flying, easily.

Dorian felt light headed. The strength required to resist it… If anything, Bull had certainly made a point about that. Dorian could not begin to say why, but he could also not begin to justify the heat that was churning in his gut right now.

From the look on the Bull’s face, Dorian really expected some wildly inappropriate comment. Instead, he actually just bowed, turned, and left the ring. There was just no understanding some people.

 

Not being understood was probably a Qunari thing. The letter Dorian held in his hands a few days later was almost certainly not. In fact, it looked a lot like an invitation to a Tevinter after dinner party, if the author had only ever read about Tevinter parties in books, and also only had a very vague idea about how to go about inviting people to such a thing. Also it was supposed to go down in their very own Herald’s Rest. Dorian had to admit, he was at least somewhat intrigued. Even if the likelyhood that it was all a silly prank was exceptionally high.

 

By the time Dorian arrived at the party, he was certain that it was indeed a prank. Now he was just unsure who the joke was supposed to be on.

He stepped through the door to find a number of unexpected things. For one, the place was spotless. Someone, or probably several someones, had scrubbed everything to within an inch of its life. For another, everyone was here. The entire inner circle and the Chargers were gathered on the ground floor, standing or sitting around and looking confused, if good natured about it.

As soon as Dorian crossed the threshold, he was immediately greeted by a great, booming voice carrying over all the chatter.

“Dorian!” Bull exclaimed, striding towards him. “So good of you to come!”

Dorian took a second of being bewildered, and getting beamed at by a very happy looking Bull.

“Yes, well,” he said, “I had to see what all this was about then.”

Bull just beamed at him some more. “Sure you had! Come, sit,” he said and led Dorian over to the chair he usually occupied himself. Then he put a hand to Dorian’s shoulder and gently pushed him down onto it. “Anything you’d like to drink, big guy?”

Dorian, to his credit, managed not to stutter. “Just ale, please.”

Bull nodded and made his way over to the bar. Dorian remained seated, and looked around. Almost everyone was deep in conversation, though Dorian noticed that he was getting a few furtive glances from several directions. If it was a joke, no one seemed in on it. Even Sera was casting him looks now and again, far more puzzled than he had ever seen her. Then Bull came back and pushed one of Cabot’s largest tankards into his hands. 

“So,” Dorian said, “are you trying to get me drunk? Is that it?”

Bull chuckled. “Up to you what you want to happen, Dorian,” he winked, “Don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” He sat down heavily in one of the chairs nearby. Dorian took a careful sip of the ale. 

It tasted normal enough, probably no funny business there. Actually, now that he thought about it, everything was pretty much normal. The place was very clean, sure. Everyone was here, yes, but they were all talking among themselves, no one seemed up to anything. The ale was still better than it had any right to be. The only one acting off was Bull. Dorian just decided to ask. He put the tankard down on the table and turned to face him.

“Bull, what are you doing?”

Bull blinked at him a few times and then frowned. “Hm… is it not obvious enough? Krem told me to keep it subtle, but that you would get it sure enough.”

“Get it? Get what?” Dorian was even more confused. Until a sudden, very strange thought struck him. If this had been Krem’s idea… The strange non-argument in the war room, the even stranger pointless demonstration of strength in the ring, and now, being bizarrely nice to him at a party he had organized-

“No, wait” He said, before that thought could go any further. “Bull? Do you mind spelling out what you think you are doing?”

“Hrmpf. I thought the point to all this was not to spell it out. I’m trying to court you, here. Well, get you to court me, apparently. Whatever works.”

Dorian’s jaw just dropped. It stayed dropped for a long time, long enough for Bull to look slightly uncomfortable. Dorian had never seen that look on him before. But then again, he had just said something about courting, so clearly something was very wrong with Dorian’s perception of reality today.

At last he found his voice again. “So, Krem put you up to this?”

Bull nodded. “Yeah,” he said, and then suddenly he glared. “Wait. Was he just full of shit? I swear, if he he was just bullshitting me, I’ll skin him.”

Bull looked confused now, and a little unsure, and there was something about that look, something that made Dorian feel, well, something. A whole lot of something, very suddenly. Dorian tried, very hard, to remember the string of their conversation. He shook his head to clear it. If this was actually what Krem thought courtship was… Well. Dorian could actually see why he would think that. He wondered, briefly, if this really was how he pictured it actually happening, back in Tevinter. If he didn’t even know what it was like. Because why would he?

Dorian shook his head again. “No,” he said at last, “well, not entirely. I suppose I can see how he would draw the conclusions he apparently did. He was not wrong, just… out of context, I suppose.”

Bull relaxed a little, but he was still frowning. “You didn’t expect those moves ever to be made on you?”

“Essentially, yes.” Dorian shrugged. “Also I never expected them to be made by a Qunari, to be honest. I don’t think you can fault me for that.”

Bull huffed. “Hah, no. I should have considered that.”

They both fell silent. For a long while they just sat like that, awkwardly looking about, until that niggling little detail at the back of Dorian’s mind finally worked it’s way into the foreground.

“Wait,” he said, before he could stop himself. “You said you were getting me to court you?”

“Well, yeah,” Bull said like it was obvious, “Krem said as the one with the big boy pants, that was on you.”

Dorian’s thoughts stopped entirely for a long heartbeat. That was… wrong. He did not quite know why it bothered him more than the whole ‘courtship’ deal he had apparently gotten himself into, but it definitely did.

“Bull. I am not of higher status than you. The thought is absurd. You are-” He stopped himself and reconsidered. “Tevinter’s social stratification does not apply to you.”

Bull’s frown slowly dissolved and he smiled. It was a small smile, almost hidden, and it was quite… lovely. Once Dorian had thought that, he could not unthink it. Also there was a look of consideration in Bull’s eye now, the glitter of that intelligence that was hidden so often, but could shine so brightly when when Dorian least expected it.

“I figured it would have to,” Bull said, “if I tried to do it right with you. I had to start somewhere. Might as well take a page out of the ‘Vints’ book, seeing as you are a ‘Vint and all…”

He fell silent again. Dorian really could only think of one thing to say.

“I disagree.”

Bull blinked slowly. “What?”

Dorian raised an eyebrow at him. Bull thought for a second, then recognition seemed to dawn on him. 

“Ooooh… You are… oh.”

There was another pause, in which Dorian swore he could have heard a needle fall. Then Bull took a deep breath.

“Well then,” he said, “you are wrong.”

Dorian felt his irritation flare up. “I’m not wrong! There is nothing you can say to-”

“Hm,” Bull interrupted him, “you said that Krem was telling the truth, yes? That means you have to lose now. By agreement.”

Dorian shook his head, exasperated. “No, it doesn’t.”

“So by not losing, are you insisting on keeping things the way I assumed they were?”

Dorian pinched the bridge of his nose. “Bull. That is not how the debate challenge works. At all. You got it wrong the first time, and you are not getting any closer now.”

Bull laughed. “Well, no. Can’t say I understand what it’s about anyway. But if you don’t agree with me now, you have to court me.” His laugh faded somewhat as another thought seemed to occur to him. “That is, if you are interested, of course. You can also just tell me to cram it. Obviously.”

He looked down at his hands. Dorian felt like… he didn’t know what he felt like. Big and warm and expanding, like affection. If affection was ever something that could make your chest feel to small for your heart.

“Tell me, Bull,” he asked, very quietly, “Why are you doing this? It seems like an awful lot of effort, just to get into my pants.”

Bull huffed. “I wouldn’t use “just” and “your pants” together like that. Also, maybe that’s not all it’s about.”

“Then what?”

“Dorian,” Bull looked him in the eyes again, steady and very serious, “you are strong and clever and beautiful. You are also kind, and you can be gentle. It’s about getting to know you better. About being your friend. Maybe more, if you’d like. Maybe involving pants, or no pants actually, if you’d like. Whatever it is, it’d be up to you. We don’t have to do this courting thing. We don’t have to do anything. I just thought… Well, I just thought I’d give it a try.”

The silence stretched between them like the expanding feeling was stretching Dorian’s ribcage. 

“I…” he tried to say, and found to his horror that he was actually stuttering. “I will need to think about it.”

Slowly, Bull’s smile returned.


	3. Meraad astaarit, meraad itwasit

For a few weeks, nothing happened. Bull didn’t mind, Dorian was welcome to take his time or to completely ignore Bull’s proposal. It was up to him now. Bull tried to keep his mind off it, with mixed success, but that was fine too. If  wandering  thoughts of pretty Vints were the worst lapse in discipline he had since becoming Tal-Vashoth, he would count himself lucky.

The next assignment with the Chargers had him occupied well enough in the Hinterlands, assisting the refugees in their rebuilding efforts, and by the time he came back to Skyhold he had long since stopped expecting anything. Which went against a very important rule: If someone tells you to brace yourself, you don’t just go and forget about it. 

As Bull came into the tavern after the long ride home, he immediately knew that something was off. Some shift in the air maybe, or some smell he couldn’t place, but he knew that it was danger. He walked up the stairs to his room slowly and drew his axe. As he entered, the room was changed. The debris on the floor had been cleared out for one, and the hole in the roof was gone. The ceiling didn’t look new though, the old beams still cracked and dark with age, but closed. The room was warmer now, even though the fire was still out. But that wasn’t it.

He cast about for a second, and then he found it. A single red rose lay on the dresser, and it was shimmering with an unnatural golden light. Carefully he approached, still holding his axe, and stared at it. It was beautiful, a full round bulb with many petals, dark red like fine wine, and its long stem had three leaves and many thorns. The shimmering glow seemed to be covering it all around. As Bull moved, it shifted too, glimmering and reflecting the afternoon light.

Bull hummed to himself. It was just a flower, sure, but the magic surrounding it made his skin tingle. He could not even guess what it was, but it was clearly powerful. Probably dangerous too, if even he could feel it from a distance. It was not unpleasant, as such, but he was not about to take any chances. Shouldering his axe again he left through the other door and quickly made his way over the battlements and into the main keep, up the stairs to the balcony overlooking the main hall. Vivienne was sitting in one of the chairs, reading, and she looked up as he approached.

“Bull,” she greeted, “you look troubled.”

Bull shrugged and nodded. “Yeah. Ma’am, can I ask you a favor? There’s some weird shit happening, magical shit. Could you take a look?”

She quickly put down her book and stood. “Yes, of course I will. Is it a threat?”

“Yeah. No. I don’t know.”

“It’s a good thing you called me then. Please, lead the way.”

Bull walked back to his room quickly and she followed. He couldn’t deny that the precise click-click of her heels on the stone was comforting. He was sure she could deal with any errant magic roses, be they dangerous or otherwise.

They came to Bull’s room and she strode in front of him, opening the door and stepping inside first. Then she gasped and froze in the doorway. Bull wanted to step in front of her, but she was blocking the door. For a long second she stood and stared, but before Bull could decide what to do, she slowly took a few steps forward. Bull rushed to her side at once, looking between her and the flower. But on her face he found no trace of worry or fear, just amazed wonder.

“Oh Bull,” she said, and her voice was breathier than he had ever heard. “Do you know what you have here?”

“Ah, no, ma’am. Something weird, I guess.”

She chuckled and then turned to him, her eyes bright. “My dear, what you have here is quite the courting gift. Also, if I may say, an artifact that many people in Thedas would give a significant number of limbs to get into their possession.”

“Huh? Really? What does it do?”

She stepped up to the dresser and reached out to the rose, almost touching it. Instead, her fingers just carefully traced the edges of the glowing light. “Nothing. Nothing at all,” she whispered. It almost sounded reverent. “In fact, judging by the power involved, it might never do anything ever again.”

Bull blinked at her in confusion. “So… it’s not a threat?”

She tore her gaze away from the flower and turned back to him, smiling. “No my dear, it is not a threat. It is, however, very powerful. I did not know that Dorian could make such a thing.” She trailed off thoughtfully.

Bull carefully approached a little further. “So, can I touch it?”

She beamed at him. “Why of course, dear! How else are you supposed to accept it?”

Bull came up short. There was one detail he had nearly missed. “Wait. Dorian, you say. How do you know it’s from him?”

“Well for one, I don’t know we have any other mages who specialize in time magic. Second, because he asked my permission.”

Bull stared at her. Alright, he thought, first things first. “He asked you for permission to… court me?” 

Somehow, spoken out loud it seemed even more absurd. 

“Yes, he did. And I gave it. I have some understanding of the Tevinter customs surrounding this, though I am sure I do not know why he would ask me, specifically.” There was a gleam in her eye and just the faintest hint of a smile now. Bull knew exactly why Dorian had asked her. It was all a bit overwhelming. Better to concentrate on the most important details right now.

“So, time magic. This thing it’s, uh, made with time magic?”

“Yes. This rose, my dear, is conserved in a miniature recursive bubble. I have never seen anything like it, and neither have most people alive.”

Bull took a deep breath. “So… it’s frozen? Dorian froze a rose for me?”

Vivienne nodded. “If you will. I know you are not used to magic, and few people are used to being in the vicinity of this much power. If you are uncomfortable, I will tell Dorian to stop this at once. That is how these things would be done.”

Bull shook his head. “No…” he muttered to himself. This was confusing. “How do I accept it?”

“I believe it is customary for you to wear it. Maybe attach it to your pauldron? It would make quite the accessory.”

“Huh, yeah. But wouldn’t it get all squashed in battle?”

Vivienne laughed then, clear as bells. “Oh darling, no. It is not within your power to destroy it. In fact…” Her smile fell a little and she suddenly looked very serious and considering, fixing his eye with hers. “The tide rises, the tide falls. That thing is changeless.”

Bull felt a sudden tightness close around his chest and his eye prickled. He had not thought about it that way, but here he was. Dorian had given him something changeless. He had broken the laws of nature to do so, and if Vivienne’s reaction was any indication, under the effort of great power. He looked at the rose again, and then carefully reached out and picked it up. It did not feel any different than he expected, it was unusually warm to the touch and his skin still tingled, but apart from that it was just a rose. He could wear it on his shoulder and everyone would see. He could wear it into battle, and everyone would see that too. Dorian would see it too. Something truly changeless… What was ever actually truly changeless? He turned the rose over in his hands a few times.

“I don’t follow the Qun anymore, ma’am,” he whispered.

Vivienne sighed and then placed a gentle hand on his. “I know, my dear. But consider this: If you did, you would not be able to accept the rose now, would you?”

Bull’s fingers closed around the stem tighter, until he could feel the thorns digging into his palm. Vivienne patted his hand gently once and then left silently, leaving him standing alone in the center of his room, clutching a shimmering flower.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the first installment of "what would Dorian do" :)  
> Not gonna lie, it's hard to come up with things he could do here. But then again, it's probably hard for him too. So, I'll continue to write this as the ideas come to me. It's fun.
> 
> Thank you all for your nice comments and kind response! I hope you continue to like it. :)


End file.
